


A Map of the Years Ahead

by lingerl0ser



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: A little angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, Slow Burn, bc yknow... enoch, idk what the tag this as really, just read the summary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-28 22:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingerl0ser/pseuds/lingerl0ser
Summary: What if things went different when Miss Peregrine and his friends had arrived in Florida?Basically just a little Hollowheart retelling of the fourth book 'Map of Days'.
Relationships: Enoch O'Connor/Jacob Portman, past Jacob Portman/Emma Bloom
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter One: Mermaid Fantasyland

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I recently got back into this fandom and this is my first work for it so, bare with me please? I just noticed that there were very few hollowheart chapter fics (also how cute is that name lol) and I hoped that someone would enjoy this! It will follow along from the start of Map of Days but it probably wont make sense unless you've read it and the first three (sorry yall im not the best at plot) but i hope this works anyways. The plan is to have every chapter of this cover 2+ chapters of the book (however the first chapter is like the first eight or something bc i didn't have much to change lol) an the pov will alternate from Jacob to Enoch. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, or general plots. The full rights belong to the author Ransom Riggs.

Jacob knew from the moment Miss Peregrine knocked on the door, nothing would be the same as it had been back in Cairnholm, or even in the Acre. 

For starters, his friends were here. In Florida. The modern day.  
Secondly, he wasn’t going to be sent to an asylum anymore.  
But most importantly- or it was then, at least- Emma wasn’t going to be able to put the memory of his grandfather to rest.

And he’d been right. As the first day turned into the second, which turned into the third, the normalling lessons he’d promised arrived. And with those came the accidental task of cleaning his grandfather's house (and, he supposed, discovering the secret bunker). It had been infinitely tiresome. It wasn’t that Jacob didn’t care about it, it's just that he hadn’t been quite prepared to spend hours in the house of the only friend he’d had, with his grandfather’s ex/his current girlfriend. It was just weird, was all. 

Jacob was completely content to wallow by himself and pretend nothing was wrong, while he tried to find this ‘H’ guy, but apparently certain members of the household preferred the idea of coming into his room to annoy the ever loving shit out of him.

“Girl problems got your panties in a twist, Portman?” he sneered from the doorway.  
God did Jacob wish the guy didn’t get such a weird pleasure from pissing people off, they might get something done around here if he didn’t. “Just fuck off O’Connor,” he huffed, staring at the log book sat in his lap, “I’m trying to do something.”  
“Yeah, well. Look, fuck, can I borrow your records again?” Well that had kind of gone the opposite of how Jacob had expected, “I think I’m becoming rather partial to this modern music.” He was fidgeting again, Jacob kind of hated it when he’d twist his hands like that. They were all bony and annoying.  
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just leave me alone.”

It was only once he’d long gone that Jacob realised, with some humour, that the record he’d taken was ‘Rumors’ by Fleetwood Mac.

In the next couple of days he found himself pushing to spend as much time as possible with Emma, attempting to get it back to how it had been before he’d left. He explained to her the modern world, cell phones, shopping malls, everything he could before H gave them their first job. To deliver that wretched parcel. 

The day they packed to leave felt so surreal. As much as he loved the missfit little band that had become this family, he was looking forward to spending time alone with Emma. Maybe with less reminders of his grandfather around, he’d be able to feel like she actually liked him again, rather than she liked how he reminded her of Abe. 

And then that little shit O’Connor was standing by their car. The speech he gave sounded important, even if Jacob was pissed at the expression of superiority on his face, but overall he’d zoned most of it out. Enoch’s accent was thick and his voice was smooth and quite nice to listen to if he was honest. If you just shut your eyes and pretended it wasn’t him that was attached to it. The others had seemed swayed by the speech though, and after little protest Jacob okayed him to go too.

What he hadn’t banked on though, was Enoch sitting shotgun tapping his fingers along gently to whatever was playing on the radio. “Dude, can’t you just sit in the back?”  
Enoch grinned, “What? So you can feel up your girlfriend while we drive?”  
“No asshat. So she can navigate.” In Jacobs opinion, it was to fucking early for this, and he was no where near caffeinated enough.  
“Aww, don’t be like that Jakey. You know I can read maps perfectly well too.” He was really laying on the mocking sarcasm now.  
“Fuck you O’Connor,” he twisted in his seat to attempt to plead with Emma to be his saviour with his eyes, “Emma?”  
She smiled, “It's ok, I don’t mind sitting here. Besides, it's probably easier for me, Bronwyn and Millard to fit together that Enoch.” Jacob really liked her but she really did not take a hint. Although she might have a point, Enoch was rather tall. So instead of continuing to argue back he simply huffed in resignation and reversed the car out of the driveway. 

It seemed that sitting in the front seats together forced an amicable truce between the two boys. Honestly, who would have thought it would be a road trip that did it, and not literally saving the world together.

After hours on the road, it was Bronwyn that spotted it first, “Is that a billboard for the Mermaids place, Jacob?”  
As the others were craning their necks to see what had been spotted, Jacob squinted his eyes to attempt make out the faded letters on the billboard and sure enough, there in the middle was printed ‘Mermaid Fantasyland’ in a stark, unattractive font. Before he could confirm, Enoch was holding up the crinkled Mel-O-Dee map and making a noise of affirmation. “Slap bang in the heart of Florida,” he muttered.

Almost immediately sounds of excited chatter erupted from the back seat. Jacob understood where they were coming from, but right now he was more apprehensive than anything. Millions of questions rolled around in his head, ‘What if this was a trap?’, ‘What if something went wrong?’, ‘What did the skull and crossbones the map was marked with mean?’ and ‘Would Miss Peregrine ever forgive him?’.

But those questions were to be asked another time, because right now he was parking on the shoulder of the road and climbing out to meet his friends at the gate of the carnival.


	2. Chapter 2: Blasted Fragile Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much what the title says. Blasted fragile cars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok before y'all read i gotta clarify something. the reson this fic is tagged as the movie as well (even though its compliant to the book) is bc i have literally been imagining Enoch as the movie version for the entire time i read the books/wrote this. so i've been envisioning him as older etc, so i hope that makes sense lol. 
> 
> also i had to google a bunch of shit about old cars for this so please let me know if ive screw anything up

Enoch was bored. At least being at Portmans house had been entertaining, there was the tele-thingy to occupy him, or all the new modern music he’d been hearing, not to mention all the different people he had to annoy and the possibility to disappear before they could actually get too angry at him. But here, in this beautiful, beautiful car, he was trapped. It seemed to him that Portman hadn’t considered anything beyond the practicality of this mission and there was absolutely fuck all to do. Plus, there were only so many times he could hear Emma ask the same questions about Abe. 

It was a breath of relief when they finally reached the destination. Or the presumed destination, Enoch still wasn’t convinced. “This looks shut down,” Jacob said, once again stating the obvious as if they didn't have eyes. It was the first time he’d spoken since getting out of the car, and for once he was standing near the back of the group. Enoch smirked to himself, momentarily Portman had lost a little of that dumb, self important pride. 

While the others checked for a doorbell or some such polite way in, Bronwyn pulled the lock off the gate and waved the group through into the apparently abandoned carnival, eyes searching for any sign of life. It wasn't long before Jacob froze and, on reflex, Enoch strained his ears to listen for any of the tell tale signs of and approaching hollow, but instead they were met by two performers, one in a strange costume mermaid tale, both in clown makeup.

“We’re closed honey.” the woman's voice had a whiny southern twang. It was almost more annoying than Portmans, Enoch thought to himself.  
Jacob cleared his throat, “We’re actually looking for someone-” he started but Emma cut him off before he could say anything too dumb.  
“We’re looking for the fire act.”  
The woman in the tale leered “Ain't no fire act round here sweety, but we’ll give you a full performance for reduced. It’s been a while since there's been anyone around worth putin’ on a show for.”  
Enoch watched for a while longer as Jacob and Emma tried (and failed) to get the answer they were seemingly looking for. “Oh come on, they clearly can’t help so let's go.” Millard had spoken up just as two other performers rounded the corner. All four were staring them down with hungry eyes. Enoch was going to kill Millard, if this lot didn’t first. 

Everything after that was a bit of a blur. 

He remembered the bear man singing, and feeling like he was about to pass out. He remembered willing his confuddled mind to get him the fuck out of there, he even remembered Bloom elbowing him as she rubbed at her eyes.

He did not remember, however, at what point it was that he grabbed a hold of Jacobs wrist and started pulling him along too.  
“Uh Enoch, you’re still holding my arm dude.”  
A flush of heat passed over his face and he dropped Jacobs arm like it’d burned him. He muttered a quick ‘sorry’ and hoped none of the rest of the group had seen the mortifying incident. 

It wasn’t far down the road that the car stuttered and clicked to a halt. After some mild cursing from various members of the group they climbed out to check for a problem and it didn’t take long to locate it. “Shit, looks like the carburettor is fried. Completely busted.”  
A chorus of groans sounded, “How long will it take you to fix it?”  
Enoch shoved his head further under the hood of the car, “Dunno, hours maybe. Might need some new parts and our lovely human torch to weld some shit.” It seemed like Jacob had been about to say something, but Milliard interjected with an annoyed “Get on with it then.”

The car was a beauty and Enoch was thrilled to get to work on her, if a little frustrated that she’d clearly been tampered with, but his whole mood was vastly decreased by the sound of a softly spoken boy with a southern accent.

“Can I help y’all?”  
As he came out from under the hood Enoch noticed Bronwyn start up from where she’d been leaning absent mindedly against the car. “Uh, I don’t think so,” she looked over to him for confirmation.  
“Not unless you’ve got the parts to repair a twin choke carburettor in a 1972 Aston Martin AMV8,” Enoch drawled. He was already bored of this conversation and some random normal wasn’t going to be able to help that they were stuck in the middle of stupid fucking Florida, but the boy continued talking anyway.  
“No but I’ve got somewhere you can hide that,” he pointed at the Aston. 

After another five minutes of potentially the dullest conversation Enoch had sat through on the entire road trip, Jacob finally spoke up. “Look,” he was pointing to a neon sign in the distance, “We have to go now.”  
And as he craned his neck to see, Enoch realised he was right. On the front of a broken down fifties style motel were the words ‘Flamingo Manor’. Or as the burnt out lights stated;

Flaming Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jhgfjh thanks for reading again! this has been really fun to write so far, and i hope to keep up the pace with at least one update a week :)


	3. Chapter 3: Born in a Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to 'Flaming Man' might be exiting, but somehow they were all looking forward to a visit to the mysterious 'Portal' more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy i am on fire with the speed of these updates lol. i dont think ive even been this committed before. hope this chapters alright, its the longest so far! 
> 
> p.s. im british so sorry if my writing of americans is shite

The boy was named Paul and he was staying in the flamingo Manor loop which was apparently watched over by a woman named ‘Miss Billie’. Emma had asked if she too was a demi-ymbryne, but all it was was that she’d lived there a long time, they had a loop keeper that stayed around other places it seemed.

Jacob had to admit that he was glad Bronwyn was the one with a strength peculiarity and not him. If any of the strained grunting noises she was making were anything to go by, the Aston was not easy to move.

But soon enough, he felt the twist in his gut that signified the entrance point of the loop, and they were standing in a, probably 50’s era, motel. Paul told them to wait a minute while he spoke with the woman that ran the place, Miss Billie, before coming back out to herd them into a building marked ‘office’.

Miss Billie was a put together woman, she was wearing a vintage style outfit and smooth makeup that made her seem a whole lot younger than Jacob was sure she was. The poodles in her lap were strange little things, but again he’d always thought lap dogs were weird. They seemed incredibly possessive of her, and the incredibly out of place old grandfather clock. “I was just looking!” Enoch had burst out when they growled at him for getting too close. Jacob had almost wanted to laugh, the sight of him getting intimidated by such small dogs was almost hilarious. “Then look less.” Miss Billie's voice had an almost southern belle type twang, but it definitely suited her. It carried far and gave off a very strong ‘I’m in charge so shut up and sit down’ vibes.

Peculiar America was a whole new world to all five of them and despite Jacob being sure he would be able to handle it better than the rest, he was failing miserably. He’d already made a few faux pas in conversation with the gentleman they’d met earlier, who’d introduced themselves and Adelaide and Mr Potts, asking about local politics and he was almost relieved that Bronwyn proceded to make an even bigger one (though he’d never admit it, it would definitely upset her).

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you gentlemens peculiarities?” she’d asked over their cups of tea. Both men had completely ignored her and carried on as if she’d never spoken. They even continued to act like that when she later tried to apologise, according to Paul the peculiars around the area weren’t allowed to use them by order of a group he referred to as the ‘highwaymen’.

Soon after Emma turned back to Paul, as he reappeared from whatever he’d been helping with, “So you say you know where Portal is?” “‘Course, It’s where I’m from after all.” That sentence was probably one of the sweetest sounds Jacob had ever heard, and he tried to take a moment to admire Emma for how to the point she was. Unfortunately it was rudely cut short by Millards interjection of “Your from Portal? But you can literally come from a-” “I’m _from_ Portal,” Paul looked slightly exasperated now, “The town Portal? In Georgia?” The words came out of Jacobs mouth before he properly had time to think them through, “There's a town called Portal?” Its wasn’t that he was insanely smart or anything, he just despised making himself sound dumb.

After Paul's short explanation of what they would be looking for in his hometown (home loop? Jacob wasn’t really sure the proper term), all that was left was for them to convince him to come with them.

“Matchstick, I need you.” It was ruddy Enoch again. He really knew how to make his demands at the worst times. Jacob zoned back in after his anti-Enoch tirade just in time to see Emma leap back and squeal and he attempted to wipe grease on her. She recovered quickly and the group made their way back towards the car.

‘Ed’s garage’ looked like a barn, but was luckily for them, near deserted. Apparently some metal needed welding on the car and Emma's hands had to be heated white hot, so hot that she had to hold her arms straight out to avoid setting anything on fire. Its was so enthralling that it wasn’t until she was done that Jacob heard the angry shouting coming from the front of the motel. The highwaymen had tracked them down.

It had been so long since he’d seen any of the group properly angry, Jacob couldn’t stop watching the two girls as soon as Bronwyn insisted she’d ‘break their jaws’ and Emma would ‘make terrible people cry’. He watched as they crossed the parking lot, shoulders squared, Emma's flaming arms behind her back. He watched as they treated the men. He watched as they stepped up to accept a fight. And he watched as Emma melted off the man's arm and Brownyn knocked the other out cold.

It had been a spectacular fight, but it didn’t seem to be done. One of the Flamingo Manor residents sang out a cry of ‘Watch ooouuuuut!’ as a third man, who had apparently been hiding through all of this pulled a gun on them. He was too far away to get with their peculiarities, but close enough to get a good shot of any of them.

The man barked out “hit the ground” and they did. None of them really had any choice and it seemed they were completely screwed as he requested their money and car keys. Jacob attempted a weak chance at getting close to the car by telling the man he had a few hundred locked in the glovebox, but the man didn’t fall for it.

This was an incredibly dangerous and tricky situation they were trying to navigate, so Jacob allowed himself to be absolutely furious when he heard some cooing and turned his head to see Miss Billie feeding her stupid little poodle to dog treats they’d risked their god damn lives to get to her.

He also let himself be ashamed of his brash emotions afterwards when she’d save their lives with apparently dog expanding treats. He was having a bit of a dumb day ok? He was allowed to have stupid thoughts. “Don’t run, he’ll think ya playing,” she’d laughed, as the human-consuming dog nudged at him. It was the size of three busses stacked, but Jacob had tried not to flinch as it licked all across his head and for some reason flushed slightly when Enoch had made a ‘wet dog’ joke.

Paul had given in to the road trip with little persuasion after their incredibly convincing demonstration. That just left the issue of seating. “Enoch can ride in the boot,” the whole group had laughed at Emma's mention of his stunt of stowing away for their shopping trip. He’d just scowled and crammed himself in the backseat with the other three.

Finally, they were on their way to Portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall enjoyed! i literally had the book next to me as i wrote this lol. some things for this chapter: the stow away incident referenced is where in one of the early chapters enoch hides in the boot of the car when they go to abes, and the singing woman is called baroness but i couldnt figure out how to fit that in. comments and kudos are always appreciated (and thanks to the person that bookmarked this), thanks for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4: The Deep South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enoch perspective of their car ride up to Portal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note!! theres a discussion of segregation/race in this chapter and as it's written from Enochs perspective some of the things he think are arsey, true to the book. i tried to keep that bit as cannonical as possible bc i didn't want to mess up an important discussion. please please please let me know if there's anything that needs to be changed/could be improved. thanks

Or not.

As they exited the loop and drove through the dark lit porte cochere, thanks to nothing but his own know how, Enoch watched and waited for Jacob to switch on the headlights and start the car racing down the road, but instead he just got Pauls hissed instructions to ‘wait’, and a view of a blockade of highwaymen, seemingly waiting for them. 

‘Bollocks’, he thought, dead raising is much less useful in situations like this than he’d thought. But there was the car, so, “Floor it” he told them, “run ‘em over.”  
“Don’t, we’ll never cover that much ground in time. They’ll shoot us.” Bollocks, he thought again. Why’d Paul have to come and be sensible? People used to listen to his ideas. Sometimes. Ok, not a lot but still.

They ended up backing up into the loop again and asking for directions to the back entrance. Enoch truly despised travelling through the past, it was just so dull. Plus it had hollows and they’d been there, done that, so where was the fun in doing it again? But here they were anyway, driving through the streets of Florida, 1965.

Since it would take till sundown to reach Portal, a coffee break was proposed. Everyone went for a cup, but Paul. “I’m not a big coffee drinker,” he’d told them, but after some offering of other options he’d told them he wouldn’t go in.  
“Why’s he being difficult?” Enoch asked.   
Jacob had just frozen, then replying “They won’t let him in.”  
He looked quite shell shocked, but Enoch thought it was a bit stupid, “What do you mean?” He knew he was being a bit of an arse, but how could someone not be allowed in a damn coffee shop?  
Paul was visibly angry by this point, “Because I’m black.”  
“What’s that got to do with anything?”  
Millard, ever the annoyance, in Enochs opinion, said “Enoch isn’t a great historian.”  
Jacob was looking a bit sick, “It’s 1965 and we're in the deep south.” 

Everyone else seemed to understand what that meant but Enoch just peered into the shop window, “There’s not a sign or anything.”  
“They don’t need one, this is a white town.”  
“How can you tell?”  
Paul stared at him, “Because it's nice.” He snapped.  
“Oh.” Enoch felt like an idiot, he didn’t know how to apologise so after Paul had offered to just wait outside, he refused to go in and said instead “We could burn it down? We’ve got plenty of practise so it’ll only take a minute.”

They’d all just got comfortable in the car again when a man knocked on the drivers side window. Enoch just watched as Jacob rolled the window a little and held a short conversation with the man, he wasn’t interested in participating until he heard the man ask what model the car was. It was his time to shine, “1972 Aston Martin AMV8!” The man stared, Enoch widened his eyes, and Bronwyn kicked him (bloody hard as well, that would probably bruise).

Ever the rational one, Emma hissed, “Start the car,” as the man waved down the police officer that’d just turned the corner. The car roared to life and the man stumbled and tried to reach into the window, luckily it wasn’t rolled far enough and they were able to speed away before they were apprehended. 

The gas station attendants were just as bad both times they stopped to fill the car up, offering every service possible just as an excuse to look closer at the car. The only times they got out of the car were to relieve themselves (and fill their pockets with oranges) at a grove, and when Enoch and Emma went into a gas station to get three cups of coffee to share. Even he found it an unpleasant experience but they said nothing upon getting back into the car, Emma had told him it would be rude to complain when clearly they had it a lot better off than some. 

When they finally reached Portal, it was evening. The group had spent the last part of their drive laughing at the equally stupidly named towns (thrift and Santa Claus, for example) surrounding it, but they were definitely ready to be back on their feet and hopefully getting some rest. 

“Could you stop here?” Paul climbed out, “I need to fetch my rod.” Enoch had very nearly made an unsuitable joke at that point, but had in the end simply resigned himself to giggling uncontrollably when Paul held it up. It seemed to move on it’s own, but apparently this was Paul's diviner stuff so maybe it wasn’t that weird. 

The stick was about as good of a navigator as he’d been and they made some horrific sharp turns and ended up speeding through a corn field directly towards a bale before that gut twisting sensation appeared and they were suddenly braking and flying through the loop gate. 

Paul had exclaimed “Welcome to Portal!” Enoch exhaled the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding in and joined the others in a shaky laugh as they heard Millard vomiting just outside the car. 

The group admired the small town and attempted to ignore Millard as he marveled at how happy the village seemed ‘at the height of the great depression as well!’ They were on their way to Paul's house to get cleaned up, but they didn’t get far before they were apprehended by a teenage girl. 

“Paul Hemsley!”  
He looked slightly stricken as he muttered a quiet ‘uh oh’.  
“You don’t visit! You don’t call! You don’t even write-”  
“Hey Alene,” he looked slightly embarrassed, “Sorry I’m late.”  
The girl, Alene apparently, sputtered, “Late? It’s been two years!”

It really looked like Paul was going to get a proper telling of, but luckily for him (and the rest's sanity) two other girls came running up to greet them. They introduced themselves as Fern and June, Paul's sisters. The following conversation was taken control of by Emma, Enoch complained to himself. Maybe it was that he’d lived with her for upwards of 60 decades but he could not understand what Jacob saw in her. She was so bossy and annoying. 

By the time Enoch had finished his tirade of complaints and come back out of his own head, Paul had introduced them to two of his brothers, explained something probably relevant about the town, and opened the door to his house.

He’d sat back as the rest of the group insisted Jacob took first shower, and for the first time, didn’t even really mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this is the second chapter in 2 days and im already working on the next one to be posted tomorrow! the next chapter will be more divergent bc i wanna tweak some things about the storyline but mainly this will be quite similar to the book until i start developing the relationship. hope yall enjoyed, hopefully see you tomorrow!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, see ya in a couple of days for the next chapter <3
> 
> (P.S this was inspired by the fucking hairline scratch on 'Go Your Own Way' on my Rumors vinyl :/)


End file.
